


Match Made

by janeway_2cool_4u



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: I'm team Uhura is the 2nd biggest space lesbian I know, M/M, Matchmaking, Original Betazoid Character, Original Queer Characters - Freeform, Pre-Star Trek (2009), Queers in Space, Romantic Comedy, but keeping with cis cannon for more characters than i planned, my mom watches a lot of wedding shows on tlc and the like, neither of them want to be together, pon farr references, so this monstrosity happened, some of them are matchmaking tv shows, they're all queer - Freeform, this will reflect that, tons of pronoun fun, until they have to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 00:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14123901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janeway_2cool_4u/pseuds/janeway_2cool_4u
Summary: Spock is in need of a mate and thankfully he can utilize Starfleet's Matchmaking Services to find one! What he's not thankful for is Jim Kirk.





	Match Made

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy, I'm back. I'm hung up on a couple parts of the Destiney update and I just really needed to get this out of my system.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, it's characters, etc. Nor am I making any money off of this. But my characters are mine. *squinty eyes* Mine.

Spock looked upon his new surroundings with concealed his disdain as well as his neck further in the coat assigned to him for his new mission. Before him was a frozen tundra where the thick layers of snow blinked Sol’s rays back to him, straining his sight. “You have reached your destination of Riverside, Iowa,” the transporter pad’s console reported. There was a light wind brushing his face that made him attempt to nuzzle further into the high neck of his coat as he thought one thing, _I hate Iowa_.

~~~

_Stardate 2255.05, 21:09_

_Greetings Ms. Igu, I am Commander Spock. I currently am 25 Terran years of age, of both Vulcan and Human parentage and currently residing in San Francisco, California on Earth where I am a professor at Starfleet Academy. I am in dire need of a compatible mate for reasons related to Vulcan biology, thus I am applying for assistance from Starfleet's Matchmaking Services._

~~~

Spock stepped off the transporter pad in the opposite direction he had been standing in and made his way to the Starfleet facility. Or he was about to when his gaze was met by the largest ship he had ever seen; the Enterprise was a beautifully made piece of space exploration equipment and felt a small sense of illogical pride that this would be his ship. He had not travelled to Riverside Shipyard to assist in the oversight of the build despite his Captain's instance to “meet the ship,” as he had said, and he now regrets his decision. There is also the benefit of joining the routine visits with Captain Pike and being able to visit with his potential “special someone”--as his mother will not cease referring to this being--as they are most likely a worker at the shipyard residing in the nearby town.

Once over his musings of the ship imposing on the winter horizon, he does step off the transporter pad and makes his way on the dry heated cement path to the entrance of the shipyard where a small office is located. He was instructed to pick up a vehicle permitted to be borrowed by Starfleet personnel so he could make his way into town and meet his first match at a local drinking establishment. While Spock does not frequent such places, the only other venue for sit down meals worthy of a date has been under renovation for several years. He checked. Regardless, it is the middle of the day--just after the lunch rush and Spock's 11:00 class--so it is likely less crowded. But much of the setting is making Spock uncomfortable and their “date” had yet to even begin.

~~~

_I am looking for someone in comparative age, preferably Vulcan in species and preferably male or masculine in gender. The two can be considered as different variables and gender is significantly of more import to me in this area. In terms of a relationship, an individual desirous of a long-term monogamous relationship including a Vulcan marital bond with the possibility of child rearing and open to my career in Starfleet taking me to into space, possibly for several years at a time. I am slated to join the USS Enterprise and Captain Pike’s crew when it is launched. While all of this is will likely play into your decision on a potential match or matches, you must know that as a telepathic bond must take place, mental compatibility is key above all else._

~~~

On his way into town, Spock passed many farms with large spans of land seemingly in hibernation, no food currently growing, along with the rest of the scenery and he wonders if his potential mate was originally from this area if they have a background with agriculture or animal farming as it seems the only viable career or area of employment other than the shipyard.

Since sending Ms. Noneh Igu his application, Spock had found himself illogically indulging in musings about theoretical matches she would have for him, much to his frustrations. Not only should he inherently not be doing something so illogical as a Vulcan, but he should not be caught off guard by them and he **certainly** should not enjoy them.

 _But here I am_ , Spock thinks it especially fitting as he had just pulled up to the drinking establishment.

~~~

_I have previously engaged in two different romantic and sexual relationships. The first was to my former indented with whom my bond with was recently broken so she would bond with another. I had long endured her subtle rejections primarily due to my Human ancestry and heritage but it was 8.75 months ago when she informed me of our permanent separation. The second relationship was with a Human female, a Cadet, whom relentlessly pursued me even in the face of my great inability to understand that she was doing so. After some time she made it clear to me and I accepted her advances. It was until I explained to her the reason for a leave of absence was to sever my bond with my former intended did she become affronted that I did not divulge any of this information with her. She then ended our relationship professing that she would prefer that we attempt to return to a friendship instead. While as a Vulcan such a relationship is completely unfamiliar to me, it has been significantly more agreeable to us both than our interim arrangement._

~~~

The building was older than most Spock had encountered on Terra, he estimated 78.56 years, and not made of particularly expensive materials such as brick, wood and plastic roofing materials all of rather dark colors that have likely been showing their age for some time. There was rust on metal hinges and stain chipping or rotting in the wood and--even from Spock's ground perspective--areas of lost roofing patched with different material.

~~~

_I encountered an immediate increase in pressure from my Father to acquire a mate since these events and it is something I have mediated a great deal upon without having met an answer. The Human woman I was previously engaged in a relationship with became alerted to this program and suggested I consider it an option. Upon consulting my parents as well, I have found it necessary to enroll in Starfleet’s Matchmaking Services as those available to me on Vulcan had previously failed me and not well suited to my mixed-species nature. For biological necessities as well as psychological benefits, bonding and the maintaining of the presence of a mate is imperative for most Vulcans, including myself. As time goes on, it is becoming more essential for my survival to acquire a mate._

~~~

 _This is the best place for a date?_ Spock wondered as he made his way to the heavy wood door. With his time on Vulcan, with his Father and his Ambassadorial duties, at Starfleet, and at the Academy, Spock has not encountered many old fashioned doors and all were in cases of an eccentric style or ancient areas of reference. This thick door that he had to pull on a handle comprised of wooden planks and rusted metal finishes was… fascinating. He wondered if there were many of these kinds of doors in this town. He wondered if there were doorknobs.

When he stepped inside what Spock presumed to be a tavern, he noticed that the dark wooden theme continued as well as the dated furnishings. There were booths lining the walls, tables throughout the open space and a bar taking up all of the wall to his right. In the middle towards the back, there was a hallway leading to restrooms and, likely, storage and an office space. What was immediately apparent was the lack of people in the establishment though. The space looked like it could safely fit at least 40 average sized humanoids, but it was empty save for himself and the being that was fixing a lightbulb for a fixture above the hallway. They were wearing a fitted black shirt sleeve shirt, tight blue jeans that accentuated appealing buttocks, and a dark brown apron, meaning they probably worked here. Spock must have startled them for they made a jumping like movement that wobbled the footstool they were standing on and had them losing their balance. Spock rushed over and grabbed them by their waist after the footstool toppled, but before they fell on the floor. He was hooking their legs under his elbow and raising them up to curl against his chest when he caught a pair of striking blue eyes.

“Hi,” they looked surprised, “wait a second, was that you at the door? How'd you get over here so fast? . . . Okay, and why are you carrying me? I'm not a girl or some damsel in distress.”

Spock decided to quickly deposit what his sense of smell told him was likely a Human in the closest booth.

“I am Vulcan and as such possess superior speed. I was unsure if your feet were injured when you fell off the footstool and as I was the reason you lost your balance at all, I sincerely did not wish to further injury any more than I had, I picked you up. I also was unaware of your gender and would have acted as I had regardless of whether or not you were a girl, or damsel as you said. I actually do not understand the significance of your gender in this situation but I did perceive you as being in distress.” There human was still lying down in the position Spock had put them in and he noticed how desirable the heat of their body was. He had always found the slightly higher body temperature of Humans to be pleasant, but Spock strangely **desired** this one in his arms and pressed up against his chest once more. He could tell that this one was particularly physically attractive however, so that may have contributed.

“Uh, okay,” they huffed a small laugh and said, “you're alright, pal. You get real old fashioned folks round here most.” They paused to shift their body from lying down to sitting up which strangely disappointed Spock and forced him to look into their eyes and not their lower body as it was obscured by the tabletop, “And not to be rude or anything, but you don't look too Vulcan. But you're all bundled up, so I'd buy it if under all that hat were some telltale features.”

At that Spock removed the thick wool cap he had been wearing and received an, “I'll be, a Vulcan in Iowa.” Quizzically, he cocked his eyebrow.

“Surely I cannot be the first. There have been Vulcans in Starfleet since its inception, including high ranking positions. There must have been at least one before I to visit the shipyard if anything else.”

The Human shifts their body into the booth’s corner and makes a waving hand gesture that Spock does not understand. Then they reiterate it with an added head nod. Then they sigh.

“Why don't you take a seat?” Spock removes his coat to place it, his hat and his gloves on the bench across from his conversation partner. “I mean, it's possible that **some** Vulcan at **some** time crossed the Iowa border, but it's pretty unlikely and I've never heard of one visiting the shipyard. There's a lot of the skilled workers that stop by after work and I usually get an earful when they do. If there's ever someone non-Human that shows up, I hear about it.” They made a small pause when Spock slid onto the bench close beside them and they cocked their head slightly with raised eyebrows in what Spock thought was confusion. At what, he was unsure. Thankfully, they still continued their thought. “We're basically just an entirely Human community in this rural stretch of Iowa. There's non-Humans at the shipyard, sure, but they stay at the barracks they got there, I guess for when they're doing ship repair with a crew on site they use them a lot.”

“That is indeed the main purpose of them with the additional usage of individuals working temporarily, those that need to be on site, and non-Humans uncomfortable living in a predominantly Human environment outside of Starfleet.” Spock had been keeping eye contact as was Human norm in conversation and found the unlikely truth that in all his 25 years he had ever encountered the shade of blue in this Human's eyes. He also discovered that he happened to want to maintain eye contact as long as he could.

“Are you with the 'Fleet? If you're out on lunch, we don't really serve food here, you'd actually have to go into town.”

“You do not? That is unwise with a Human clientele drinking alcohol for an extended period of time.”

“Yeah, it's not. It's just what we do. People come here to drink and socialize, maybe get laid, not to eat.”

Spock looks around the establishment with different eyes now, “I find that. . . unsavoury.”

“Ha!” The Human claps him on the shoulder and his gaze snaps back to his. “Yeah, that's Humans for you-- unsavoury. You want a drink or something, or just continue cosying up with an unsavoury Human?”

“I would not partake in an alcoholic drink at this time as I must teach a class later this afternoon. I also did not say that you were unsavoury. Simply that to my perspective, what you describe what this establishment would not be desirable to me, essentially. That I would not normally come here.”

“Why **are** you here?”

“I am scheduled to have a meeting with an individual I have not met here. The settling was decided by a third party.”

The Human blushes now an elegant pink that Spock enjoys.

“What kind of a meeting?”

“To use Terran vernacular, I have a 'blind date’.”

“Oh? Know anything about xem?” they ask with an amused look.

“I am aware of nothing about them other than that they are a Human with the name James.”

Spock's booth partner smirks a little and moves slightly closer to him, “Well, I wish I could wait it out with ya, but I do have some work I need to attend to.”

“Do you refer to the light bulb? I would like to assist you so you would not fall again.”

And his booth partner now looks angry at him.

“I can do it just fine by myself if you'll just let me out.”

“As you are unable to brace yourself in the area you were situated in, you should not attempt to replace the lightbulb at that height without support or a spotter. I would also be willing to replace it for you as I am taller.”

They have been watching Spock with a face of angry incredulity. They spoke slightly louder and not aggressively.

“Are you serious? A friggin spotter to change a lightbulb? And will you **please** move?”

“Not so that you may put yourself in harm's way.”

And so the Human began to climb over the back of the booth while mumbling to themself.

“Jesus, how many people at Bentley's does it take to change a lightbulb? One Human to actually do it and a Vulcan explaining how he's doing it wrong.”

“I am not explaining that you are changing a lightbulb incorrectly but are doing so in a potentially dangerous way. As is your method of exciting this booth,” Spock said frustrated that he had let some of his emotions seep through his speech, only adding to his already present mild frustration.

The Human, with the majority of their upper body over the back of the booth, turned violently to address Spock, he could tell, but unfortunately slipped and fell with the sound of themself on their side with a ‘thump’. Spock stood abruptly and made his way to them only to have them give him a hateful face. As they got up they said, “Fine. You do it.” They brushed past him and Spock found an infectious quality to their anger. He found it concerning so decided to meditate on it later.

On the ledge of the booth on the other side of the hallway entrance, Spock could see the replacement bulbs.

“This is an old fixture,” he said with mild surprise.

“And I'm sure you can figure it out with your superior Vulcan intellect,” they say with great disdain from somewhere behind him, likely behind the bar.

Spock allows himself a private frustrated sigh through his nose and he rights the footstool. Humans still hold many stereotypes related to lack of compassion, ruthless logic, and superiority complexes of Vulcans. While it makes life among Humans difficult for Spock, there is no other Vulcan so familiar with the basis of these beliefs than Spock. After having unscrewed the burnt out bulb and replacing it with the new one he asked, “Where would you like these items to go?”

“Give ‘em here.” Spock made his way over and placed the items on the countertop. The, Spock presumed, bartender took the objects and disappeared under the bar. Feeling awkward, Spock decided to sit down on the bar stool in front of him. Spock wished to return to what he realized now was an easy conversation they had engaged in previously and so asked the Human, “What pronouns do you use? You referred to yourself with ‘he’ earlier, I believe.”

The bartender popped their head up from under the counter looking disbelieving.

“You in the ‘Fleet?”

Spock recalled them asking him this earlier and having not responded to it among the other items he wished to address.

“Ah, yes. I am Commander Spock, current professor of xenolinguistics and of the sciences at Starfleet Academy in San Francisco. I use he/him/his pronouns exclusively in the English and Standard languages.”

The bartender was completely level with him now and gave him an expression Spock would describe as challenging.

“James T. Kirk. He/him/his. Call me Jim.”

_I've been had._

Spock knows his eyes are widened but he cannot cease from using all of his senses to bring in more information to contextualize this new information. James Kirk, Kelvin Disaster baby, son of Winona Kirk and Federation legend George Kirk, standing before him in a bar in nowhere Iowa working there as if his life had given him no other option than to be a bartender in a place that smelled of stale yeast and dust and rotting wood. He could hear the wind hitting the window pane and the dripping of a bathroom sink and see that the lighting here was poor, not good for the Human eye long-term and Jim had unevenly shaved stubble and eyes that showed he was deprived of sleep and bruises fading on his upper arm and scratches of varying age upon his skin and rough hands and scars on his face from healing cuts and beautiful brown freckles occasionally painting his skin and bone beginning to show from a lack of body fat and he finally **saw** Jim. Ms. Igu’s match for him. Spock was confused and concerned as he began to pick up on muffled thoughts and feelings that were not his own before he closed his eyes and shut down his straining of the senses. While his telepathy is among his 6 senses, he had never drawn upon it in any situation similar previous and certainly not without skin contact or a bond. He calmed himself.

“So you've met your match. Haha! Awesome, great. Wish I could say it was nice to meetcha. I assume it's back to the Academy for you, Commander.”

When Spock opened his eyes he found Jim wearing a bitter grimace.

“I do not understand. You do not wish to continue to converse with one another and explore our compatibility?”

“Oh ho! No, I'm good. All set. I’ve seen enough.”

“Why? Did you not enroll in Starfleet Matchmaking Services to do so?”

Jim leans on the counter, looking away from Spock, taking on a rather cavalier air about him.

“Yeah, no. I got an email, I did it for laughs. You know, pull on some heartstrings, mess with them, make fun, flirt, then just have them remove themselves with that hilarious confused look they always do. But you, you're just annoying and I'm not laughing, so you can hit the road.”

“This was a charade.”

“Yeah man, I thought maybe putting down ‘open to aliens’ meant I'd get an Orion or something. You know, get laid, hot alien sex.”

Spock was gripped again with anger not for the first time this afternoon.

“That is not the purpose of the services,” Spock seethed.

“Aww shucks. It's not an escort service. I mean, I thought for sure--”

“Do not be so disgraceful, Starfleet--!”

“Disgraceful? No, an emotional Vulcan is disgraceful.”

The only thing Spock could hear was his heavy breathing. His fists were clenched tight, his eyes were closed and he was mentally repeating times tables to calm himself.

“I can't imagine anyone wanting to bang such a disgraceful Vulcan. Can't’ve gotten much responses, even in an escort service. Your parents must be so disappointed in their illogical whore of a son, won't even be able to continue the family name among sluty humans. Why would any Vulcan ever come to Earth anyway other than to fuck sleazy humans? I mean, you must’ve seen the way we shake hands with everyone we meet, even openly hold hands of lovers in broad daylight. Do you shake all your students’ hands or just the ones that need a good fuck to put them in line? They must just come up begging you for it. I mean, what must your mother think? Such--”

Jim had reached over to caress his fist with a spark and Spock stood abruptly, glaring at Jim.

“You'll be leaving now.”

Spock allowed himself to emit a low growl before picking up his coat and lashing out the front door.

~~~

“Computer, contact Ms. Igu.”

The car computer made the melodic sound that he had heard many of his Human student and peers describe as ridiculous things varying from “Leep Lop Loop” to “keel meeb toot” but the “beedle” was what always came to mind to Spock.

“Good afternoon, Spock. How was your date? You seem to have finished up rather earlier than you planned.”

“Ms. Igu, I did not find your first match to be satisfactory or acceptable. Hopefully your next will be more suitable. I also believe Mr. Kirk to be abusing your comparative process.”

“First of all, **Mr**. Spock, I have given you permission to use my personal name several times. This is a personal matter, I find people are more open when they accept your openness. Which can be a general rule for courtship as well.”

“Your advice is noted, Nonah.”

“Thank you, Spock. Now, what is it that makes you think James is **abusing** my process?”

“He confessed such to me. He described engaging in the enrollment process as doing so ‘just for laughs’ and wishing to manipulate others’ emotional well-being for his amusement. Finally, he likened the services to that of the sex industry before likening myself and all others enrolled to sex workers going on a tangent of a predominantly sexual nature essentially bullying me before knowingly inappropriately touching me.”

“Ah. In his initial application he made similar insinuations. I made him submit another that was much more honest. I am not particularly concerned about him again my process. He was genuinely interested at times. As for the assault, I apologize and will reprimand him. You are free to take whatever actions you wish.”

“I will think on that, Nonah, thank you. But your previous statement leads me to believe that there were many times that he was not interested.”

“Yes, Spock. So Jim has some issues, But that does not mean that he cannot be happy before he has them all resolved.

“I am not looking for a mate to be **happy** . I am looking for a mate to **survive**.”

Nonah laughed, “Oh, don't we all, Spock?” Which irked him.

“Nonah, I ha--”

“Spock, I apologise. That was insensitive. However, it is true that many species, while not biologically true, it is psychologically, making it seem so to them as well. While not Human myself, it is has been my impression of them.”

“Regardless, you may or may not take what action you feel is necessary. I will submit the correct paperwork and I will need another match.” Spock could hear a sigh over the communicator.

“Spock, Jim is your most compatible match.”

It rang throughout the car. The single most mocking aspect of this entire day that wasn't the snow or the weather, it was not the disgusting bar, it was none of Jim's taunts. It was this. That that unbearable man could somehow be a truly suitable match.

“Than he is either lying and is manipulating your system or I must have dismally low compatibility with anyone.”

“In fact, neither are true. Your compatibility based on all of the tests and interviews you took was approximately 91.3% however, he also submitted a mental mapping and… well, you have a complete match.”

Spock quickly moved his foot from the acceleration pedal to the breaker in the middle of the luckily empty two-way road. He was silent for a moment before saying something useless.

“Pardon?”

“Spock, it… was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Usually, complete matches are either identical or complementary but your minds are like puzzle pieces, made to fit one another to complete a full image. Your minds are entirely symmetrical, where in some parts you are identical and one and in other areas you complete the other picking up the slack that is needed only for the other to do the same somewhere else. I was so shook by the results I had them peer-reviewed several times over, it was why I requested more than one from you. As mappings are uncommon in Vulcan matchmaking, it is impossible to tell what it might say about a martial bond between you both, but an associate of my theorizes that it could indicate a very special bond that has not been heard of in over two centuries. Spock, I cannot in good conscience set you up with anyone else when your T’hy--”

“Please cease implying what I believe you are implying.” Spock was now returning to the act of driving his vehicle, he was in need of a distraction. “I cannot accept James Kirk as a mate and we are incompatible.” To which Nonah sighs once more.

“Spock, you have a great deal in common actually. You're both grandmaster chess players, he speaks 5 different non-Terran languages and 3 Terran ones, you're sexually compatible and both interested in congruous sexual kinks, he is highly skilled with computer programming, he has a great interest in literature and classical music, you both had childhoods that were somewhat lacking that have lingering trauma, and he is the highest Human IQ I have encountered in this capacity or any other. But regardless, you informed me that I needed to find your highest compatibility mentally. I have done that and I'm unsure either of you could find a truly fulfilling partner outside of each other.”

“I do not believe it was ethical to divulge that information.”

“I don't believe it would be ethical to allow you to allow you to give up on Jim.”

Spock sighed in frustration out his nose and took a moment to think. _Mental compatibility is key above all else._

“I will keep him as an option however, I do not wish to continue seeing him currently. I request to be matched with others and will consider a 'date’ with him and a later time.”

“I accept your terms. How long do you think you'll need to cool off from this encounter and meet someone else without being clouded by Jim?”

“I imagine I will be suitable by this weekend.”

“Okay. Let’s see… You're going to meet Rehrer Th'zaolor the Andorian at the Academy quad on Monday at 16:00. Work for you?”

“Such a meeting would be fitting with my schedule.”

“Alright. Then it's a date. I’ll forward you more details later and if you'd like to stop by my office before then to talk about today or the future of the process, you're absolutely welcome to.”

“I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Nonah.”

“You're welcome, Spock. And try to get back to California safe, okay?”

“Like always, I will endeavour to do so.”

“Alright, see you soon, Spock.”

“Goodbye, Nonah.”

The rest of the ride back to the shipyard was silent and it was only until he exited the car that he realized he left his hat and gloves at the bar.

**Author's Note:**

> Please like, comment, and subscribe!  
> Like for reals, I wanna know how I'm doing.
> 
> Next Chapter, Jimbo! At least a little of his perspective. Probably.
> 
> If you'd be interested in beta-ing or just want to send a private message, hit me up with an email janeway2cool4u@gmail.com


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